


Blow Out The Candles

by ashamedbliss



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Birthday Sex, Consensual Kink, Consensual Violence, F/M, Face Slapping, Grand Theft Auto Online, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Game(s), Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 05:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5954743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashamedbliss/pseuds/ashamedbliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor didn't know it was your birthday, and he didn't get you a present. Looks like he'll have to make it up to you another way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blow Out The Candles

**Author's Note:**

> Huge thank you as always to my beta, the lovely [kxthyx](http://archiveofourown.org/users/kxthyx/pseuds/kxthyx) , and thank you to [lumbeam](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lumbeam/pseuds/lumbeam) for bit-reading and endless encouragement! This is set before the main storyline of the game, during the GTA Online part of the timeline.
> 
> You, the reader, are based off a GTA Online female character - as per the game, you're mute (but I've invented a little backstory/excuse for it. Just wanted to try something different really). Slightly different to GTA Online though, you've been working for solely Trevor for a while now, and you're actually part of his little gang. Awww.
> 
> The bits stylised [y/n] is where you can insert your name, so it sounds like Trevor's growling it. _Nice_. Hope you enjoy!  <3

“End of the line, boys,” Trevor sing-songs, bringing the Bodhi to a sharp stop outside of his trailer. He cuts the lights and engine, leaving you all in the dark, the lights off on his porch. Without the wind rushing past you, the heat becomes overbearing once again, and your blouse begins to cling to your back again. How is it still so hot past midnight?

All things considered, you huff loudly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You jump out of the bed of the truck at the same time as Wade does.

You remember Trevor saying on numerous occasions that he only keeps things back there that he doesn’t mind losing. Your feet drag a little as you cross the front yard; some day this has turned out to be.

“Trevor, [y/n] ain’t a boy, she’s a lay-dee,” Wade points out. They cross the yard, Ron nearly barged aside by Trevor in his attempt to enter the trailer, gripping his assault rifle casually by its body.

“Thank you, Wade, for your _valuable_ insight. I hadn’t noticed her _huge_ ass or nice long legs in the slightest,” Trevor deadpans, and you roll your eyes, shrugging the loot bag onto your shoulder and following Trevor into his trailer. It’s hot and it smells worse than normal; you make a mental note to come in and clean it up at some point tomorrow - later today, if you’re being technical. It’s gone midnight now and you’re tired, so you get straight to business and simply dump out the money onto Trevor’s kitchen table.

“Alrighty,” Trevor says, clapping his hands together after dropping his rifle on the sofa. You quickly move out of the way so he can get to the cash; funny that he treats you like one of the boys, but he’s never hurt you as bad as he hurts the others. “Two grand for Ron, two grand for Wade, two grand for Missy here and six grand for me, sound about fair?”

“S-sure Trevor, whatever you say,” Ron says, scooping up his designated wads of cash. “I’ll be round tomorrow with that info on the Chengs,” Ron says, nodding awkwardly before limping outside again.

Wade stares blankly at the money on the counter. Trevor grunts, shoving Wade’s share at his torso and then turning him roughly by his shoulders. “Don’t make me hit you again, _Wade_ ,” he sneers before the younger man scuttles out of the trailer, leaving you alone with Trevor.

You hesitate for a moment, looking at the meagre stack of cash left as yours. Trevor has been lacking with his ideas recently; you think it’s the meth starting to fuck with his head, just as it fucked with Wade’s. You’ve been dreaming up some heists yourself, imagining taking a Ponsonbys or maybe the Rockford Dorset, something different perhaps, but you just lack a way to... _communicate_ them, to be fair. Trevor would never hear you out anyway, even if you used a cork board and photographs and everything. He doesn’t have the attention span to listen to other people.

Which reminds you.

“Out with it, then,” Trevor says, turning at the motion of you angrily crossing your arms over your chest. “C’mon, you can tell Uncle T _all_ about your troubles, and I’ll listen to at least fifteen seconds of it, twenty if you’re a good girl.” Trevor attempts to smile, then, and it pisses you off even more. “Three months working with me and you still won’t open your mouth, eh? Might have to put it to other uses.”

You huff with disgust as Trevor gropes at his crotch. You’ve caught him naked once or twice, of course, often rescuing him from parties gone wrong in his underwear (or even less). It didn’t shock you, you found, seeing him dressed in only his tattoos and scars, all over his body. He’s at least twenty years older than you, but you realised that first time that you didn’t really care, and now... now, you can’t stop thinking about him.

But as he leers at you now, cupping his family jewels, this isn’t how you’re going to give yourself to him. You want it the other way round, him giving himself to _you_. Like some kind of gift, perhaps...

You reach into the back pocket of your denim shorts, pulling out your wallet and finding your driving licence. You thrust it in Trevor’s face, promptly shutting down his childish display and spreading confusion over his face. “Nice picture, sweetie. How old were you when that photo was taken, twelve?”

You flip him the bird with your free hand, looking at the card briefly before pointing at a certain line. “March 3rd, 1992. Are you trying to tell me you’re not legal? Because I’m good at math, and you’re definitely tw--” Trevor stops mid word. “Twenty-one. It’s your birthday. Wait, _was_ your birthday. Well, fuck.”

_Finally_. You smile smugly, pocketing your licence and wallet once more before raising an eyebrow in challenge. Trevor paces to his bedroom and back, hands on his head. “Why didn’t you tell me? Fuck, why can’t you just _speak_?”

Your smile falters.

_Because I had a car accident two years ago while I was escaping the cops_ , you want to say. _Because I had a massive brain injury, and it’s a miracle I’m alive. Because I have severe expressive aphasia caused by that injury, and I sound like a baby when I try to talk, so I just stopped talking. Because I’m worried you’ll push me away, and I came to Los Santos and to you when I was pushed away by my old crew. Because I’m scared of losing_ you _._

But instead, you just shrug, and twist your smile into a smirk.

“Can you just _stop_ with that fucking smirk? I can’t think when I’m this turned on, alright?” Trevor groans, leaning his head against his refrigerator, and you bite your lip. Trevor often says these kind of things, but you’re pretty sure that apart from Maude, you’re the only woman he regularly sees in his day to day life, and, well, he’d get a spanking if he talked to Maude like this. It’s just Trevor being _Trevor_ , there’s no deeper meaning to it than that.

You push yourself up onto his kitchen table, crossing your legs and letting your foot bob up and down. “Well, twenty-one years old... you’ve already drank alcohol, hell, you’ve already _bought_ it at the Yellow Jack... you’ve been driving for fuck knows how long... I ain’t giving you any drugs, hell no... shit, what can I give you that you haven’t had already?”

Trevor looks at you with something very close to desperation in his eyes. He doesn’t want to disappoint you, and _this_ Trevor is the one you’re attracted to, the one that you would love to get to know, if only he’d let you in.

Or maybe it’s the other way round.

Trevor’s still looking at you as you uncross your legs and open them slowly, your shorts revealing nothing but the intention clear as daylight. You tip your chin up slightly as if you’re challenging him, although you know Trevor rises to every challenge and is always a step ahead at that.

Tonight appears to be the exception to a lot of things.

“You? What? But you don’t _like_ me. You called me a _twisted pig-headed lunatic_. Granted, you never actually _said_ it, but you wrote the words in lipstick on the windscreen of my _truck_.”

You smirk at the memory. You’d been working for Trevor for just two weeks, when he had nonchalantly offered to fuck you instead of paying you for a job. How times had changed. You pout, now, as if you’re pitying his little sob story, before you pop the first button on your blouse, waiting, waiting.

Trevor makes a distressed noise, torn between his deep-down respect for women, your apparent sexual confusion, and his dick in his pants. “I’m giving you five seconds to decide if that still stands.”

He waits for two.

“Well thank fuck for that,” he says, crossing the trailer in long strides and pulling you against his chest. You’re winded, but before you can even think his lips are against yours, and holy shit you’ve been dreaming of this for months now but you never actually once considered that it _might just happen_.

You loop your arms around his neck, around the _CUT HERE_ tattoo, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as he continues to kiss you. He’s a good kisser, you decide as his hands travel south, squeezing the flesh of your ass through your shorts. “God, [y/n], I’ve been dreaming about taking a bite out of this juicy ass since the day I met you. Fuck, no one else is going to even get _close_ to you after this, I’ll kill ‘em all,” Trevor says as if he’s commenting on the weather as he kisses down your neck, taking a second to peer down the front of your shirt as he does so. “Sweet mama,” he utters. You clear your throat.

Trevor straightens up at your dainty coughing, regarding your raised eyebrow and pointed look with curiosity. “Wh-- oh, right, it’s _your_ birthday, not mine. Well then, Princess, don’t you think it’s time for your gift?”

You blush a little at that, and Trevor comes close again, if only to lift your arse from the table and carry you through to the bedroom. You squeak at the sudden movement, and you can see Trevor still smiling predatorily after he lays you out on his bed, a lion with its prey. “Keep making noises like that and I won’t be able to give you your _gift_ , sweetcheeks,” Trevor tells you, guiding you further up the bed and going to unbutton your shorts. “I’ll just fuck you into the mattress instead, make you come so hard you see stars,” he whispers harshly into your ear. You moan, a choked sound, and you can feel yourself getting wet. “Up.”

Trevor helps guide your hips off the bed so he can pull down your shorts, and you busy yourself with unbuttoning your blouse before Trevor gets impatient and ruins it. “You’re fucking _soaked_ ,” he whispers to himself, voice full of awe, and you don’t know whether to roll your eyes or turn a deep shade of red as he stares at your crotch. Blouse unbuttoned, you look down your body to find Trevor sniffing at your panties. You cough lightly.

“Sorry sweetcheeks, but you smell _really_ good. You been eatin’ pineapple?” Trevor asks with genuine curiosity, and you make a squeak of indignation. “Now I wanna have a look at these puppies you’ve been hiding from me. Plain rude, is what that is.”

Trevor grabs your hands and pulls you up into a sitting position, pushing your blouse off your shoulders and down your arms behind you. “Look at these beauties,” Trevor mutters, and you’re glad you wore matching underwear for once, today of all days. Not that Trevor would’ve cared either way, he’d probably prefer it if you were wearing nothing underneath your clothes. Trevor masterfully pings your bra undone, quickly maneuvering your arms to get all of the offending garments as far away from your body as possible.

His hands are hot when they cup your breasts, and you can’t help but gasp. “You and me both, princess,” Trevor mumbles more to himself than you. He presses a kiss to your breastbone before gently pushing you to lay flat on the bed, mouthing at your breasts. “God, I could suck on these titties all day long,” he moans, licking one of your hardened nipples before moving on to the other.

You clear your throat pointedly, and Trevor looks up at you with a torn look on his face. “Yes, yes, _okay_ , I get the message. Just you wait until it’s _my_ birthday,” Trevor drawls, holding a breast in each hand. “ _These_ two will be covered in hickeys by the time I’m done. Ya hear me? They belong to _me_.”

You whimper a little at the possessive tone in Trevor’s voice, and much as you’d like to be completely dominated tonight, you’ve got a different agenda. Steely-eyed, you hold Trevor’s gaze as you put your hands on his shoulders and push, until his face is level with your crotch again and he gets a clue.

“You want me to give you a good lickout, [y/n]?” Trevor asks, hooking his thumbs in your underwear. “Make you even wetter than you are already? ‘M not even sure that’s possible,” Trevor says, and a new kind of thrill runs through your veins when he slowly tugs down the ace covering your most delicate parts and you see his eyes widen. “Oh, sweet fuck. This is a thing of beauty.”

You make a choked sound when you feel Trevor’s blunt fingertips slide along your slick opening. “It’s... it’s just perfect,” Trevor continues, voice full of awe. “The perfect pussy. I wanna take a photo of it on my phone, so I can look at it every day and just...” Trevor looks up at your turned up nose. “Maybe not tonight. But you get the idea.”

Trevor slides off the end of the bed, kneeling on the floor. He pulls your underwear down your legs and tosses them over his shoulder, leaving you completely naked and at odds to Trevor, still fully dressed. You squeak loudly as Trevor grips your ankles and tugs, pulling you down the bed with your pussy level to his face, like you’re some kind of ragdoll.

Although, you can’t help but admit that the display of strength turns you on a little.

Trevor wastes no time with formalities, simply pressing his lips against your pussy and eagerly beginning to lick and mouth at it, fingers sure to leave bruises on your thighs. Your toes curl and you grip the bedsheets, as your heels dig into his shoulder blades.

A sweat breaks out on your brow, and you have no fucking clue how it can still be so hot this late in the night, and you can feel Trevor’s palms slipping against your legs. You sit up a little and reach down, running a hand over his head to where his hair is longer, and you _pull_.

Trevor easily slides one finger inside you, pulling his mouth away for a few seconds. “I knew you’d be a dirty, _filthy_ girl, [y/n],” he says, voice deeper than it usually is. His chin glistens a little in the light, and he licks his lips with vigour. “And you taste fuckin’ _divine_. I could do this every night.”

You don’t realise it, but you’ve been biting your lip the whole time he’s been talking. When you raise your eyebrows, Trevor takes it as an invitation, or maybe even a challenge. He adds another finger, leaning down again to lick your clit with the tip of his tongue.

“Ah!” you gasp, laying down flat on the bed again. Your back arches, and you push yourself towards Trevor’s face and all that pleasure his tongue is giving you. It’s making your legs tremble, and you don’t know how long you can cope like this, when it’s been so long since you’ve been fucked this well.

Actually, it might just be the best.

Trevor seems to remember he still has two fingers buried inside you, and he crooks them, driving you mad from both inside and out. He braces his free forearm against your hips to stop you from rocking them against his face, in all your excitement.

“Ffffff--” manages to escape your lips before you check yourself, but you’re nearly too far gone now. Trevor eases off your clit, simply lapping up everything you’re giving him, before he slowly slides his fingers out of you and stands up.

You watch him through heavy eyes as he drags the back of his hand crudely over his mouth and wipes his fingers on his shirt. Then again, did you ever expect anything else? “Think it’s ‘bout time you got your present, princess,” Trevor says, unbuttoning the fly of his jeans. You’ve seen him naked a couple of times, in bizarre situations you’re still not quite sure you understand, but that was then and this is _now_ , and Trevor’s looking at you like he’s going to eat you alive.

You shift up the bed again, your head on the pillows, and you can’t help but reach down and touch your clit, swollen and oversensitive. It makes one of your legs jerk a little, and all Trevor does is watch, as he pushes his jeans and his briefs down his legs.

“You better not finish before I even get _started_ ,” Trevor warns in a gravelly tone, whipping his stained shirt up and over his head, throwing it aside as he steps out of his jeans. He crawls onto the mattress and you’re the impatient one now, looping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a messy kiss. You smile with satisfaction when he whines a little, needy as ever. There’s a part of you, deep down, that wants to just roll Trevor onto his back so you can have your wicked way with him, and he’d probably _enjoy_ it too, the kinky fuck, but there’s something you need to do first.

“What now?” Trevor asks when you break the kiss, twisting to lean towards the nightstand. “You don’t wanna go through there,” Trevor says uneasily as you pull open the drawer, nonchalantly moving aside a set of handcuffs, a sleek black dildo, and a giant bottle of blueberry lube to unearth a box of condoms.

Righting yourself on the bed again with a condom in hand, you squint at the date printed on it. _12/2011_. You frown, flipping the packet so Trevor can see it, and then pointing at it, just in case.

“ _And_?” Trevor drawls. “It’s only for the spermicide, and you don’t need to worry ‘bout that, Princess, the ice has done most of that already.” He grins, as if to make his point.

You roll your eyes at Trevor before wriggling out from underneath him. “Baby, wait!” Trevor calls, seperation issues apparently extending to you getting off the bed to reach your shorts. Out of your back pocket you pull your wallet, in which there is a fresh, in-date condom. You hold it up to him, raising his eyebrows.

Trevor, now lying on his back on the bed, perks up a little. “Only one, eh? Better make it count then, sweetcheeks.”

You scoff, before you crawl back onto the bed, the condom between your teeth. Trevor licks his lips, reaching a hand down towards his cock and starting to pump it slowly, already at half-mast. Humming your approval low in your throat, your hands snake up Trevor’s muscled thighs, and you smile when his breathing hitches as you reach his cock.

“[y/n],” Trevor gasps. It’s a little bit like a prayer, and when he closes his eyes, your smile grows even more. Keeping one hand on his dick, you take the condom out of your mouth. Trevor opens his eyes again and takes it from you, ripping it open with his teeth and quickly rolling it onto his dick. “Please,” he utters, looking completely wracked. His hands reach for your hips, and too dumbfounded to do anything else, you let yourself be guided to straddle Trevor’s waist.

You don’t think you’ve ever heard Trevor say _please_ in his life, and certainly not to _you._

You lift yourself up to hover over Trevor’s hips, reaching back towards his cock. His hand is already there, and an unsure sound escapes your throat as you feel the head of Trevor’s cock against your pussy.

“You don’t know what you do to me, [y/n],” Trevor gasps, and your moment of worry passes. Biting your lip, you sink down onto Trevor’s cock slowly, watching Trevor’s face flicker between joy and barely-there restraint. “Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ _tight_ ,” he mutters when you’re fully seated, sitting up a little to take in the view. “Jesus.”

Tentatively, you rock your hips forward, the long-forgotten feeling of being filled making you a little cautious. Trevor’s fingers on your hips are sure to leave bruises in their wake, but the way his head is thrown back into the pillows, the column of his neck exposed, the sight of him makes you forget your inhibitions. You let out a low moan, running your hands through your wild hair before you put them on Trevor’s chest, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“You look fucking incredible like that,” Trevor says lowly. “All hot and messy and _fucked_.” You smile at Trevor when you make eye contact, and he shifts to plant his feet flat on the bed, ready to thrust up into you. His hands slide up to your breasts, brushing your nipples with his thumbs. “God, I wanna just... just...”

“ _What?_ ” you mouth, because between your lips and your eyebrows, you’re pretty sure he’ll understand.

Trevor sits up suddenly, throwing you completely off your rhythm. Before you can topple backwards, he’s got his hands splayed on your back, holding you tight against his chest. “I wanna just fuck you into the mattress,” Trevor growls, one hand moving to thread through your hair. “You belong to me. _Mine_ , you hear?”

You gasp loudly, managing to whisper a “yeah”. Trevor sends you both tumbling onto your sides, limbs splayed everywhere. With little finesse, you find yourself manipulated onto your back, your legs automatically curling around Trevor’s waist as he looms above you.

“God, fuckin’ look at you,” he says, swivelling his hips and reminding you that he’s still right where you need him to be. He keeps up a shallow rhythm as he continues talking. “You fuckin’ turn up here like you’re the queen of Los Santos, just... the way you walk, it’s like you _own_ the fuckin’ place.” You tilt your head on the pillow slightly as Trevor keeps talking. “I mean, I didn’t even think you were 21. I could’ve sworn you were 30.”

You reach up and smack Trevor hard across his right cheek with an open palm. He stops thrusting and nearly pulls out as he rubs at his quickly reddening cheek. “ _Owww_ , okay, maybe I deserved that.” You continue glaring at Trevor from where you’ve propped yourself up on your elbows, ever-ready for a fight. The anger leaves Trevor’s eyes as he leans in close once more. “Do it again?”

You’re not quite sure if it’s your annoyance at Trevor being, well, _Trevor_ , or if you’re actually acquiescing to his request, but you slap him again, maybe even harder this time. He howls before he leans down and crashes his mouth against yours, his tongue working its way between your lips as he begins to pick up the pace again. Trevor grabs your wrists, pinning you to the bed as he fucks you harder, leaving you squirming and writhing beneath his grip, moaning into his mouth.

Trevor breaks the kiss to look down at you. “You gonna come for me, like a good little girl? Because I’m--”

Before he’d even finished the question, you could feel your orgasm suddenly rush up on you like a wave in the ocean, crashing over your head and paralysing you. You cry out, eyes screwed shut as your legs tremble and your nerves turn to ice, before your limbs become heavy and your brain turns to slush.

“Trevor,” you say dumbly, and you must’ve pronounced it right because when he looks at you, it’s like he’s looking right into you.

“Fuck, I, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Trevor shouts, slamming his hips into you, your pussy feeling a bit sensitive but you take it anyway. The pain drags you out of your post-orgasmic bliss and back into the real world, which isn’t a bad thing when Trevor looks so wrecked. “I love you I love you oh _God_ \--”

Trevor falls forward onto your chest as he comes, shaking all over and clinging to you for dear life. His body remains rigid even as he sighs, the call of your name still echoing around the trailer, and probably Sandy Shores too, it was that loud. Wrists freed, you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight against you, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He smells like fresh sweat for once. You smile.

“Fuck _me_ ,” Trevor says quietly, eventually. He props himself up on weak arms, pulling out of you with a wince and kneeling near the foot of the mattress. Peeling the full condom off with a quiet “ugh”, he knots it before tossing it vaguely in the direction of the garbage.

The mattress springs creak as Trevor eases himself back down on the bed next to you. Instinctively, you curl into his side, throwing an arm over his torso. He’s boiling hot against you, but you couldn’t give a fuck. Trevor laughs. “It needs to be your birthday more often.”

You smile again, pressing your face into Trevor’s sticky and overheated skin. “Happy birthday, by the way,” he murmurs into your ear, his free hand smoothing your wild hair out of your eyes. You think about what he said when he came... and then you try not to think about it. Too much, too soon.

Instead, you half-heartedly sign a thank you, or at least make a gesture that Trevor would recognise, before you settle your hand over Trevor’s heart. It thumps away still in his chest, twice the age of yours; your heart has pretty much returned to its natural rhythm. One of your fingers traces a silvery scar gently, and Trevor presses a kiss into the top of your hair.

“I mean,” Trevor starts, rolling onto his side towards you so he can hold your body close against his, as if he’s going to keep you by his side throughout the night. Leaving hadn’t particularly crossed your mind; it all seems so natural now. “We could keep on celebratin’ tomorrow morning,” he says in a low tone that makes your toes curl a little. “And then maybe tomorrow evenin’, but then we might have to take a day’s break because I’m an _old man_ and the speed hasn’t done much to my libido.”

You snort at this, shaking your head at Trevor’s drawling, self-deprecating tone. You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He makes a surprised noise.

“I just wish I could get into your _head_ ,” he says quietly, tapping your forehead gently. Your eyes are beginning to droop shut of their own accord. “Understand you. Work out what you want to say sometimes, when ya can’t. Maybe that can be my birthday present. Well, that and some freaky sex.”

You roll your eyes under your closed eyelids, a soft smile on your lips, until you realise that Trevor’s birthday is months away as yet. Ten months, in fact.

After that, your smile only grows.


End file.
